


but love is not a victory march (it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah)

by MidnightBlueMoon



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Angst with no happy ending, Apologies, Character Death, Gen, Major Character Injury, Possibly Requited Love, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Season/Series 01, Serious Injuries, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 09:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13587240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightBlueMoon/pseuds/MidnightBlueMoon
Summary: Matt can feel the blood oozing from the multiple stab wounds. Deep inside he knows he’ll never make it, but he can’t dienothearing Foggy’s voice one more time.





	but love is not a victory march (it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on an Instagram post (but it was actually a Tumblr post) and I wrote it in one sitting. The title is a line from Leonard Cohen's _Hallelujah_ , I love the song so much.  
> Listen to _Things I Didn't Say_ by Adam Lambert if you want that extra bit of suffering.
> 
> **My love and thanks go out to my friend J, who beta-ed for me. You're the best.**

Matt can feel the blood oozing from the multiple stab wounds. He can feel the warm blood spreading across his stomach, feels it dripping across his fingers, tries to stop it. But deep inside he knows he’ll never make it. He can feel the ruptures in his organs, can feel the way his body is revolting, trying to heal, but it’s pointless. Even though the knife didn’t puncture the lungs, his liver, his kidneys – everything is in shambles. He can feel the life slipping from his body and he wants to scream, wants to beg, wants to pray. But he knows it’s pointless. He doesn’t feel too miserable. He’s in pain, he’s gasping for life, but – didn’t he see this coming all along? Didn’t he maybe even choose for his life to end like this? He doesn’t regret becoming the Daredevil. He doesn’t, even though it cost him so much. It cost him Foggy and that might be his only regret. Matt’s heart tightens and his eyes burn. He knows it’s selfish, but he can’t die _not_ hearing Foggy’s voice one more time. He knows it’s cruel, but he has never been the best person, has he?

Fumbling for his phone, he gasps for it to call Foggy. He presses it to his ear, feels it through the mask and promptly decides to take it off. His hand shakes as he drags it over his head and drops it in his lap. He can still hear the phone ringing, Foggy probably dragging himself across the room to get to his phone. Matt presses it against his ear, waiting.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Matt”, Foggy groans into the phone, voice sleepy and tired and Matt feels awful to wake him, but he feels his blood seeping out and he always _loved_ Foggy’s tired voice. “It’s...” There’s a pause, which means Foggy is looking for the time right now. “It’s 3:17 in the freaking morning and I don’t know about you, but _normal people_ need sleep.” Matt laughs breathlessly. God, how much he has missed this. How much he will miss this. “I’m sorry, Foggy.” He knows he’s apologizing for waking Foggy up, but he’s not. He’s apologizing for a dozen things, for lying to Foggy, for hiding things, for being cruel when he didn’t have to be, for being an ass, for not appreciating him enough. Matt knows it’s shitty that Foggy will remember this as the last thing Matt ever said to him, but he can’t bear to not say it. He needs Foggy to _know_.

There is silence on the other end of the phone. Then Foggy speaks. “Why are you apologizing, dumbass? First of all, it’s not like you’re really sorry.” Matt laughs again, stomach hurting like a bitch when he does, but he needs to pretend it’s okay, for Foggy, for himself. “Second of all, why did you call? Isn’t it time for you to be hanging out on rooftops?” He hears the hint of disapproval in Foggy’s voice, softened by the sleepiness. Matt breathes shallowly, tries to cling to every second of life for as long as he can. “It’s a quiet night.” It really is. It is now. Matt can’t hear the sounds of the sirens anymore, he can’t hear the people more than a block away. He can’t smell anything over the strong, coppery smell of blood and he can taste blood, fire and pain. He can make the noise fade so far, that it feels like he can only hear Foggy and the beat of his own heart, the rush of his own blood in his ears. It’s ironic how death shall be his salvation from the sensory overload he has hated for so long.

“Foggy”, he mumbles. “Look… I’m sorry.” He can hear Foggy sigh, can hear how Foggy becomes gradually more awake. “I know this isn’t how I should do this, but I can’t _not_ tell you. I’m sorry, Foggy. I’m so, _so_ sorry.” Matt knows he’s rambling. He knows he shouldn’t. Foggy isn’t dumb – he’s so smart, so much smarter than Matt has ever been. The only thing Foggy wasn’t smart about? That was Matt. But Matt isn’t sorry for that, how could he ever be sorry for that. He was selfish and kept Foggy in his life, knowing he would hurt him one day, one way or another. But Matt’s always been selfish with the people he loved.

Foggy sighs. “Matty, I appreciate you calling me about that. But, don’t you think we should talk about this over coffee or something?” It’s a peace offering and Matt wants to cry because he knows he will never make it and he has _never in his life wanted_ to do something more. He smiles through the pain ripping him apart. “Sure, Foggy. I just… I needed to tell you, man.” He can hear his voice wobble and he hopes Foggy will blame it on his relief and not on the fact that the four stab wounds in his stomach are ragged and deep and _deadly_. He gasps as he tries to move his hand and he can feel more blood spilling out. Foggy’s word are almost drowned out by the hammering of his own heart. “Are you okay, man?” He hears the worry and no, no, no, he never wanted that. He grits his teeth, holds onto every shattered piece of strength he has and smiles. It’s a bloody smile and he is glad Foggy will never see it, will never see the broken mess Matt is now. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I just thought I heard something.” It’s a good explanation. And it’s also not, because Matt has stopped jumping at every sound a long time ago, growing used to hearing gunshots and the thuds of fists hitting something. But he just offered Foggy a way back to his bed, so Matt can die alone in this alley, with the memory of his best friend’s voice in his head. He imagines Foggy nodding, because there is no sound. “Hey, Foggy?”, he says. A sleepy “Yes, Matty?” comes back. Matt hopes Foggy already crawled back into bed, talking to Matt like they used to in college – ready to sleep, but still talking to each other as if they wouldn’t wake up together the next morning.

He needs to say it. “I miss you.” It’s a confession if Matt has ever confessed anything, it’s his soul bared open. It’s _I love you, I love you, I love you_ and Matt knows people think it’s a sin, but loving Foggy could never be a sin. He knows he’s a sinner but this isn’t it, this isn’t why. This is the only _good_ thing about Matt and he needs to say it, needs Foggy to know.

He thinks he can hear Foggy smile a little, a little bitter, a little hurt, but still honest. “Don’t get sappy on me, man.” Matt gasps out a laugh, a relieved one. But then, quieter, Foggy says: “I miss you too.” Matt’s heart is hurting because this is what he wanted all his life, but it’s too late and still – he’s glad he said it. His heart is slowly piecing itself back together, while his body is slowly falling apart. He smiles and the tears slide down his cheeks when he says: “Good night, Foggy.” Foggy shuffles around and Matt now knows he is already in bed again, because he remembers that sound – Foggy always shuffles around when he lays down. “Good night, Matty. See you tomorrow?” It hurts, but Matt smiles. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you.” He can hear Foggy’s breathing change a little, which means he just smiled and then the click tells him Foggy ended the call.

Matt rests his head against the wall, letting his tears slip down his cheeks. He prays, prays that nothing will happen to Foggy, and to Karen and that they’ll forgive him. He prays that they won’t remember him for his mistakes, that maybe they’ll remember his smile like he remembers theirs. He prays for Foggy because he knows that Foggy will know that Matt called him last. That his call was a Goodbye. Matt prays and when the darkness comes, he isn’t angry. Matt Murdock isn’t angry for what feels like the first time in ages and when the pain fades away, he even smiles. His world slowly fades to nothing, leaving only his prayers in his mind. And finally, those slip away too.


End file.
